


the kitchen

by xcrossbow



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Established Relationship, Forehead Touching, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcrossbow/pseuds/xcrossbow
Summary: For Walter, Tim would like to be a lot of things.





	the kitchen

Tim has never claimed to be a good cook, but for Walter, he would like to be. For Walter, Tim would like to be a lot of things.

 

They’re in the kitchen together. This used to just be Walter’s kitchen, but Tim supposes that he spends a little too much time here for it to be considered only Walter’s kitchen now. Walter never cooked that much before he met Tim anyways, and Tim knows how to use the stove in ways that Walter never did. Still, Tim would never call it “their kitchen”. Not yet, anyway. Now, it’s just “the kitchen”.

 

The kitchen that Tim loves to cook in, as long as the person he’s cooking for is Walter.

 

The kitchen is small. It’s an apartment kitchen, shoved in a corner next to the living room to save space. With both of them standing in it, it feels even smaller; their bodies occasionally pushing into one another as Tim cooks and Walter does the dishes. Even when Tim pushes himself up to sit on the counter next to the stove, it’s still a tight fit.

 

But the closeness is nice. Nice, and warm. Between the stove and Walter (who Tim often jokes is like a living hot water bottle), the kitchen is without a doubt the warmest place Tim can think to spend a winter night. It’s warm enough that Tim doesn’t even remember the snow outside. It might as well be in another world.

 

At some point, Tim supposes he zones out watching Walter clean. There’s a lull in activity, with nothing left for Tim to do but wait for water to boil. And there Walter is, eyebrows pushed together in mild frustration as he tries to scrub something out of an older pan, his face providing something much prettier to look at than just some pot on a stove. The overhead lamp casts a warm yellow hue over the kitchen and brings out a special sort of shine in Walter’s short dark hair. Walter frowns slightly and scrubs a little harder, determined to get the pan clean, and Tim stifles a laugh at how focused he looks. He’s seen this look before. Many times before.

 

Without looking at Tim, Walter sighs at the sound of the laugh and drops the sponge back into the dishwater. He flicks water at Tim with his free hand and lets out a quiet laugh when Tim responds by lightly kicking him in the thigh.

 

Walter gives up on scrubbing the pan after that, rinsing it and placing it to the side of the sink to dry. He finally looks at Tim then, turning away from the sink and taking a step closer to the counter so they’re mere inches apart. He lightly places his hand on Tim’s thigh. It feels gentle and comforting. Part of Tim hopes he keeps it there forever.

 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at me, Tim?” Walter asks.

 

It’s playful and joking, finished off with a smile that shows both dimples. A smile that Tim can’t help but return every single time.

 

It’s playful and joking, but Tim still feels blood rush to his face, unable to stop himself from feeling a little embarrassed that he’s gotten caught being so...soft.

 

“Sorry, I—“ Tim starts to apologize, hand moving up to scratch the back of his neck instinctively.

 

Walter interrupts him by just laughing again. He brushes a hair away from Tim’s forehead with his other hand and then trails downward, grabbing the hand off of the back of Tim’s neck. He holds it for a moment.

 

“I’m kidding,” Walter tells him.

 

He squeezes Tim’s hand lightly before setting it back down on the counter.

 

Normally, Walter has an inch or two on Tim, but here, with Tim seated on the counter, it’s a perfectly even playing field. Tim leans forward after a moment, closing the last bit of distance between them to press his forehead lightly against Walter’s and letting his eyes close. Tim isn’t sure how long they stay like that, maybe only seconds, maybe several minutes. It doesn’t really matter. It should be awkward, this level of intimacy. This odd domesticity that they’ve created for themselves in this small kitchen. Or, at least Tim thinks it should be awkward. It’s been so long since Tim’s has had anything like this. Since Tim has let himself have anything like this. He’s not sure he deserves it.

 

But it really isn’t awkward. Not even a little bit. It’s just nice.

 

Nice, and warm.

 

“The water is boiling,” Walter says quietly, interrupting Tim’s thoughts.

 

He slowly pulls away so Tim can get off of the counter. He moves the hand on Tim’s thigh last, lingering there for as long as possible.

 

And Tim eventually does get off the counter, softly brushing past Walter so he can move in front of the stove. He finds just enough excuse as he passes to trail a hand lightly along the soft flesh at Walter’s middle. Just to mess with him a little bit.

 

Walter lets him do it, putting up no barriers for intimacy in this little place where they’ve decided to spend their time. _Their_ time, even if it’s not their kitchen. Not yet, but maybe someday.

 

Walter sighs softly and leans gently against the sink, watching Tim add ingredients to the pot a few feet away.Tim can feel Walter’s eyes on him, can see Walter watching him from the corner of his eye. He waits for a few minutes, then turns his head to look at Walter again, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at me?” Tim asks, a small smile on his lips.

 

Walter stares at him with big, soft eyes and returns the smile, shaking his head slightly.

 

“No.”


End file.
